


Long Exposure

by mssdare



Category: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Aurora - Freeform, Canon Compliant, Canon Disabled Character, Charles has feelings too, Christmas, Erik Has Feelings, Fix-It, M/M, Northern Lights, Norway (Country), Pining, Post-X-Men: Days of Future Past, Snow, Snow and Ice, Telepathic Sex, Telepathy, Winter, telepathic no-sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 18:37:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5259446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mssdare/pseuds/mssdare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Charles had always dreamt of seeing the Northern Lights."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long Exposure

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Arisu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arisu/gifts).



> Dear Arisu!
> 
> I was thrilled when I was assigned to you--I LOVE LOVE your art and I can't express how many FEELS I've had while watching and reading your heartbreaking, amazing comic. I took one of your gen prompts and made it all about Charles and Erik but I hope that you'll still enjoy. 
> 
> I wish you a very happy Holidays!!!
> 
>  
> 
> ___
> 
> To my betas & pre-readers: Sillygoose, Daroh (YesImafan) and Fr333bird, SM email thread girls: SpaceAltie, Mabyn and ZairaA and Norway-consultant Ing (Squeeeful) - THANK YOU! I'll put your names up once the reveals are done :)  
> (The remaining mistakes are mine - I stubbornly refused to do some of the edits...)

Long Exposure

 

Charles had always dreamt of seeing the Northern Lights.

Which wasn’t true at all, but he couldn’t admit it to anyone now, could he? Not when he was already in Tromsø on a trip to “Chase the Lights.” Sure, the phenomenon was incredible, and the whole adventure seemed exciting, but the aurora wasn’t the real reason Charles had abandoned the kids just before Christmas and had gone through all the trouble of having countless discussions with Hank to let him come here on his own.

“No, Hank, I _will_ be fine,” Charles had said, putting enough force behind the statement to make Hank finally give up.

“But….” Hank had tried once more, puzzled, making Charles feel like an ass, for Hank would not only go with Charles anywhere in the world out of sheer devotion, but he’d also be genuinely interested in the aurora and its magnetism. And if the Lights had _really_ been the reason Charles wanted to fly to the end of the world in the December drizzle and snow, he would have caved and let Hank come. As it was, though, Charles had said, “Really, Hank. I need to start doing things on my own.” And that had been that.

All this because Charles was hoping, against his better judgment, that Erik would be here. Not that he would admit to this, even to himself.

It had been a year since he'd last seen Erik, flying away above the collapsed stadium in that ridiculous cape of his like a giant bug in the air. Things had changed for Charles after Logan had come back from the future, and he'd hoped.... What he'd hoped for was irrelevant, though. Besides, Charles was all right now. Perhaps what had happened in Washington had been just what he'd needed to sober up. Quite literally.

As he sat in his chair now, looking up at the sky, he thought how ridiculous this all was. He’d come here thinking, what? That Erik would really be here at this time of the year? In this particular place? And even if he was—would that matter at all? They'd burnt their bridges too many times.

It was cold, and Charles shivered a bit. He could almost hear Hank’s lecture—about how paraplegics were prone to hypothermia, and how he should be more careful, and how he should know better, _really_. But Charles had been reckless anyway, according to Hank. What was the risk of catching a cold in comparison to all the life-changing events he’d once participated in and then resigned from?

He was about to roll back inside the lodge when he felt a familiar, crystal-bright mind touch his. He drew his breath in.

 _Impossible_.

Yet he couldn’t be mistaken. He’d never forget that incredible pattern of thoughts, the steely resolve and something fierce burning underneath the cool surface. It never ceased to amaze him how such a complex and analytic mind could be so warm at the same time. No other mind was like that.

"Hello, Erik," he said when he heard the footsteps behind him, and that intense warmth opened up for him, touching Charles like a caress, with so much yearning and joy that Charles almost gasped, before it withdrew and hid behind a wall that felt like barbed wire.

Even after all these years, it still made Charles’s heart jump. It never ceased to surprise and hurt him how Erik could trust him and not trust him at the same time.

"Good evening, Charles." Erik came to stand next to Charles. He looked good, Charles noticed—with longer hair than the last time Charles had seen him and with a slight stubble. Dressed in jeans and a warm puffy jacket, unzipped at the front so a checkered flannel shirt thrown over a T-shirt was visible, he looked so _normal_.

After a while Erik nodded towards the horizon, where a distant faint-green glow brightened the sky. "Northern Lights?"

"Yes." Charles kept his voice even, professor-like. "Fascinating phenomenon, isn't it?"

The corner of Erik's mouth twitched in contained amusement. They both knew that the magnetic fields must feel amazing to Erik.

They also both knew that it wasn’t the aurora Charles was here for.

"So," Erik said, still not looking at Charles, "are you going to travel up North to see more, then?"

"Well, it depends if anyone is willing to deal with _this_ on the way." Charles gestured to the wheelchair, trying to not let any bitterness seep into his voice. He had long ago given up on despair and regrets, but sometimes giving up on insisting he could do everything the way he used to do before Cuba, was so hard.

"You could tag along with the team I’m going with," Erik said. “They wouldn’t mind.”

Was that a peace offering? Was that pity? Or more? Charles didn't want to look for it himself in case he'd see something he wouldn't like. But he didn't ask Erik if he was sure either.

"All right," he said. "Thank you."

“We’re leaving tomorrow at eight. I’ll let the guide know about you.” Erik hesitated and Charles caught a glimpse of worry radiating from him, but Charles wasn't sure if it was about Charles's condition or the inconvenience of adding another member to the team, a member who'd be a burden, no less. Whatever it was, though, Erik reined it in and nodded to Charles, turning to leave.

"How did you know I was here?" Charles asked on impulse, because it looked like Erik had come here to this small lodge just to talk to Charles. No matter how self-centered it sounded, it was the only logical explanation.

"I could ask you the same question." Erik smiled, his old teasing smile from over his shoulder that made Charles feel all warm inside. How many long nights had Charles lain, tossing and turning and cursing his infatuation that only ever brought him pain. But even the greatest minds were helpless when irrational emotions took hold.

"I wanted to see the Lights," Charles said, and at Erik's raised eyebrow he shrugged. "Saw it in your mind once, where'd you go in December." _To avoid the memories of Hanukkah and things that have been long lost_ , Charles thought.

Erik looked impassive for a moment. Then he finally started to walk away.

"Eight o'clock in the lobby," he shouted without looking back, but Charles could feel Erik's warm smile.

 

xxx

Charles had imagined that a Northern Safari would consist of dogsledding, being out in the cold and sleeping in Sami tents on the floor. So he was pleasantly surprised to be led into a small yet comfortable bus that could not only easily accommodate his chair but was also well heated. He unwrapped the layers of clothing he was bundled in, staying only in a fleece sweater. He left his padded trousers on, though—the space was too narrow to take them off, plus even after all these years Charles felt self-conscious about doing anything in public that would draw attention to his disability.

Outside, the scenery that was visible in the bluish light of the winter day changed from a small town to wooden houses scattered here and there among the snowy mountains and the sea. Some parts of the road led along the fjords that could take the breath away from even the most spoiled traveler. All Charles could concentrate on, though, was the radiant presence of Erik in the front seat, who was chatting idly with their guide in half-German, half-English.

Now that Charles had more time to focus on Erik's mind, he came to the conclusion that something had changed in Erik since the last time they had seen each other. Something had shifted or expanded, Charles couldn't quite put his finger on it, but Erik was... calm. The usual anger that burned in him like a furnace was dulled, almost untouchable now. It was as if Erik had put aside a part of himself that had once defined him, but instead of leaving a void behind, it had filled with serenity, no longer dominated by the constant sense of threat Erik had used to live in.

It took almost three hours to get to the camp, and once again Charles was surprised at the relative luxury of the place, as he'd expected more Spartan conditions. He'd even packed an external catheter (and other things) just in case the bathrooms were inaccessible for him. But thank God, even though they were outside the main tent, they were easy to reach and seemed wide enough for him to use.

Erik unfolded the chair for Charles manually, shaking his head lightly at Charles's silent question. It was odd to see Erik using his muscles rather than ability, but maybe Erik didn't want to display his powers in front of the locals.

Inside, the main tent was huge, with a wooden floor, a fire cracking happily in the middle, and an additional metal furnace at the back. There were skins and furs rolled up under the walls, and a seating area which Charles wheeled over to, unloading the bundle of clothes from his lap onto the nearest bench.

He was served hot chocolate and a treat called lefse that looked like crepes or blini but tasted more like delicious flatbread with cinnamon and sugar inside. Erik was nowhere to be seen, but a quick mind scan allowed Charles to track him as he moved around the camp. It seemed like everyone knew him here, even though it clearly was a very touristy attraction, not Erik's style at all.

Charles sat, eating lefse and wondering what they were both playing at here.

It was slowly getting darker again, the fairylike blue light of the day fading away, but it was still hard to tell the time. According to Charles's watch it was only 3:00 p.m. Outside the tent there were bonfires encircled by other tourists sitting on fur-covered benches, and Charles reckoned he should probably go out of the tent to socialize too. But he just didn't feel like sitting outside in the subzero temperatures.

Erik entered the tent, taking off his boots as he strode in. He looked somewhat unreal in his padded trousers and puffy jacket and with his cheeks reddened from the cold. He extracted himself from the winter gear and sank down on the bench next to Charles, to help himself to some hot chocolate too.

"I assumed you'd be out in the wilderness alone, not stationed in a camp like this." Charles said, because it really did feel out of character for Erik.

He shrugged. "I don't mind people that much nowadays."

There was way more to the sentence than showed on the surface. Charles looked at Erik, trying to decide if he was reading it right.

"And no helmet these days either," he stated.

Erik shook his head. "It seemed... excessive." He chewed on some of the lefse.

Charles watched him, trying to puzzle out this new, gentle Erik. He knew driven Erik, he knew despairing Erik, angry Erik and even resigned Erik, but he'd never gotten to know this calm, almost content man who sat with his body relaxed, licking the sugar off his fingertips.

"Are you going to join us out there?" Erik asked. "It’s almost dark now, so the aurora will be visible.”

“Do you think we’ll really see it?”

“Oh yes.” Erik smiled. “The magnetic fields are very active. If it’s not cloudy we’ll see plenty.”

"I’ll come out in a minute," Charles said, smiling back. He reached for the layers of clothing and started the arduous process of dressing up.

 

xxx

Erik was right. The skies were clear and Charles sat in awe, with his cheeks heated from the fire, smiling at the other guests who were trying to capture the magical sight on their long exposure photographs.

Above them the spectacle of lights was something truly out of this world. The waves of light swirled and trembled, spreading across the sky like sweet cream poured into heated jelly. Just when Charles thought the shimmering lights stretched above would settle, they changed shape again, overtaking the whole sky only to shiver and shrink anew, glittering with pink hues on the edge of an incredible green. Charles felt enraptured, unable to turn away even for a second, not because he was afraid of losing a moment of this unearthly vision but because he felt powerless, totally at the mercy of the magnetic forces. Strange silence descended all around them, thick like a velvet blanket, making this little piece of land a chosen place, a place hung in between the Earth and the heavens.

Erik sat next to Charles, silent, with an odd expression on his face—a little flushed, with his mouth open and pupils dilated. Charles stretched his mind carefully, touching Erik's with a silent question, and Erik's eyes gleamed in the light of the fire because, Charles realized, Erik was _aroused_ beyond belief. He turned to Charles and pointed at the sky.

"It just feels..." he said, sounding breathless and a little self-conscious.

Charles was about to laugh and call Erik a kinky bastard, because _of course_ he’d get off on magnetic waves. But that was the moment the guide called out for dinner, and the spell was broken as people started to move towards the tents again.  


xxx

“Here,” Erik said, passing a bowl of hot and aromatic stew to Charles along with a bottle of beer. He let the cap drift gently from the top of the bottle until it lay on the ground next to them.

“Thank you.” Charles said. It was odd but nice to share a meal with Erik again. “I thought you were hiding your powers here.” He gestured to the beer cap.

Erik frowned. “I’m just trying not to flaunt them.”

“What happened to ‘Mutant and Proud’, then?” Charles asked.

Erik looked up and met Charles’s gaze with his steady one. “I just wanted to try living for a change.”

Charles wanted to ask what had brought this on, how Erik had moved on from the “I want to be the messiah for Mutants” mission, and the anger and regrets. He caught a flash of a memory so strong that it felt as if Erik hadn’t thought it but instead had pushed it intentionally towards Charles. It was more a sensation of deep yearning than a complete vision, but Charles got the impression of a pair—no, of two older men holding hands. And could it be? Was that what Erik really wanted?

Charles suddenly felt very tired, his body disoriented with the lack of sunlight, so when Erik got up without any further comment and went to the wall to pick up fur mattresses for both of them, he didn’t protest and instead wheeled himself to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

Back in the tent, Charles rolled his body onto a thick layer of furry skins spread on the wooden floor and wriggled into the thick sleeping bag as proficiently as he could. By the time he’d finished he was overheated and sweaty, and not for the first time he thought that maybe his powers weren’t worth the struggle with his body, and that getting back to Hank’s serum would be a blessing.

Usually when people looked at Charles they saw a man in a wheelchair and felt sorry for him because he couldn’t walk. Very rarely did anyone think: poor man, he can’t dress that easily, he can’t have sex like he did before, he can’t use the toilet without special aids, he can’t sit up without using his arms… And Charles should be grateful that it wasn’t _quite_ thatbad, not with only partial spinal cord damage, leaving him with quite a lot of sensation below the injury, what with all of Hank’s inventions enhancing Charles’s mobility. But “quite” was the key word here. Everything was “quite.”

He lay now, still flushed—both from the exertion and from the deep embarrassment of being in such a compromising situation, struggling to wrap himself up, while Erik was moving gracefully like a cat, just inches away from him and ignoring all of Charles’s struggles. Maybe it was better, Charles thought, this indifference, as he wouldn’t survive Erik’s offer to help. To avoid Erik’s steady gaze Charles fixed his sight on the top of the rounded tent, thinking of how much it reminded him of the inside of the Cerebro.

The fire in the tent was crackling, and all around them people were settling down to sleep, rustling in their sleeping bags, their thoughts excited about the adventure of staying overnight in the middle of nowhere, in the controlled danger of open land under a magical sky.

On Charles’s left, a young girl, who was almost drifting to sleep with her thoughts and dreams tangled tightly together, was imagining ancient souls being led over the bridge to Valhalla by Valkyries with lanterns in their hands. It made Charles smile. He was pretty sure it was quite a misconception about the Viking culture, but it was a nice vision anyway.

As more minds drifted into unconsciousness around Charles, one still stood out, bright and shimmering, strong and yet giving, like mercury. Charles turned his face to look at Erik, who was settled right next to him, a long figure like a slim mummy in the sleeping bag. His eyes were closed and his lashes cast soft shadows in the flickering light of the lantern that was lit on a stool behind them.

Erik’s lips twitched in amusement. “I know you’re watching me, Charles.”

“Oh, so you’re the telepath now, are you?” Charles chuckled.

Erik didn’t answer. His breathing was even and deep, and for a moment Charles thought maybe Erik was just going to fall asleep, but then Erik shifted, and without opening his eyes he asked, “Do you want to feel it?”

“Feel what?”

“The Lights.”

Was Erik offering what Charles thought, here? Was he really willing to open up for Charles in such an intimate way and allow Charles to dive in deep and ride Erik’s sensations?

“Would you be all right with me doing that?”

At that Erik opened his eyes and turned his head to look at Charles. “Would I be offering if I wasn’t?” Erik’s irises looked dark in the dim light of the tent, and Charles thought that he’d never find eyes like that in his life again—the light grey, changing their intensity depending on the surroundings, matching the steely sea of the North or the grey-blue of the evening sky.

Charles let the tendrils of his thoughts wrap around Erik’s, gently at first, asking for permission. And when he felt welcomed, he dove deeper, focusing on the magnetic waves of the Lights as received by Erik.

Logically, Charles could have predicted what the aurora would feel like for _Magneto_. Yet nothing could have prepared him for the intensity and the depth of the sensation.

“Christ,” he said, catching his breath. “How can you even function out here?” Because if Cerebro was “it” for Charles, he’d never actually tried to live, walk, eat and sleep within the construction. The buzz, the vastness and exhilaration that the waves were throwing at Erik, was incredible.

Erik breathed in and out, focusing on the even pattern of the inhales and exhales. “Give me a moment. It’s harder like this. You’re… amplifying it a bit,” he whispered. And then the axis of the world shifted for Charles, the floor beneath him shuddered, and he dove even deeper into Erik’s mind, riding the waves higher and higher.

The waves started gently, like a caress, touching Erik’s skin and wrapping him in a warm electric current. Then they kept undulating and straining against Erik’s body, pulling on his muscles and bones, buzzing in his core. And when the anticipation and the pull seemed like too much to take, as if the wire had been drawn too tight, they released, and Erik almost arched up beneath their phantom touch. The moment between one wave and the next one was like diving in and out of deep water. Both Erik and Charles gasped and looked at each other, the strain in the air almost palpable.

There was a thin layer of sweat forming on Erik’s upper lip and forehead, and Charles thought that Erik had never looked more beautiful than now, trembling with the desire to get more from the Earth and the Sun to offer it to Charles. Maybe something of Charles’s feelings had gotten through to Erik, or maybe he just wanted it to happen, but just before diving in for the next wave, Erik reached out and grabbed Charles’s hand, tightening his long fingers around Charles’s more sturdy ones.

Then they were back in.

This time the wave was even stronger, building and building, growing in strength until Charles thought that something would snap inside of him like a rubber band pulled too tight, and suddenly Charles was falling, his whole body on fire and yet iced through. He didn’t know up from down anymore—there was just the light and the electricity in his mind, surging through him, reaching his fingertips and yes, yes, even his toes.

He needed air. He needed to take in some oxygen before he’d burn and choke. Erik’s hand on his tightened even more, and suddenly Charles felt like he was coming, not knowing how this had happened, if he had even gotten hard at all, if the orgasm was a physical one or just in his mind, and if that even mattered. Tears spilled from the corners of his eyes that he’d squeezed shut so hard he almost saw sparks of light behind his lids.

“Erik,” he gasped, returning the squeeze and letting Erik know that he felt it as well.

He wished they were alone in the tent so he could strip Erik and see for himself if Erik was real or if he was made of light and electricity just like the aurora itself. He suddenly needed to know how Erik had changed over the years. He needed to map every little part of Erik’s body so he could remember it for the long days to come. He dreamed of _eating_ Erik, literally, this spirit bathed in the Lights, and of touching him in the most intimate way as the currents had just done.

The waves weren’t easing, and all that Charles could do was to keep breathing, in and out, in and out, relishing the solid warmth of Erik’s hand in his.

He wondered if anyone in the tent was aware of the state Charles and Erik had managed to work themselves into, and he smiled. All around them people were asleep, and here they were holding hands, lying on the floor in the middle of a snowy land and sharing telepathic magnetic ecstasy. There was a fairytale quality to it.

Charles let go of Erik’s hand and arranged himself so he was lying on his side, facing Erik. As always, he was struck by how handsome Erik was. How could this man look like Charles’s most secret dream? How could he feel like it too? Erik opened his eyes, and for a long moment they watched each other. Then Charles reached out to stroke Erik’s cheek, gently cupping it with his hand and brushing his fingertips lightly over Erik’s cheekbone. Erik sighed softly, parting his lips, and that did it for Charles. He couldn’t deny himself any longer—the surrounding people be damned. He pulled on Erik’s head and closed the small distance between them to kiss him.

Even though Charles could hear Erik’s hot thoughts, he still expected Erik to stiffen at this, maybe even pull back with disgust, fear, or hate—after all they’d not done anything like this since those days when they had been searching for the mutant kids all around the States together. So when Erik’s lips parted easily for Charles, the rush of joy and hope that washed over him almost made Charles too greedy to continue without pushing aggressively for more. Once he got himself under control, focusing on the here and now rather than on the regrets and what-ifs of the previous years, he laced his fingers in Erik’s silky hair, breathed in Erik’s familiar scent and kissed him harder.

Erik’s lips were pliant but not passive, his tongue a hot pressure on Charles’s own. Combined with the emotions buzzing inside Erik, which were still sifting into Charles, the kiss felt like a bundle of heat wrapped in fire.

When the kiss finally slowed down, they stayed close, with their lips still brushing against each other’s. Charles let his hand fall to Erik’s side and gripped the hem of Erik’s thermal undershirt. He’d been deluding himself all those years after all. There was no way he’d ever be able to stop loving Erik—sometimes fiercely, other times sweetly, sometimes bitterly and full of regrets, but love Erik he did. It was ingrained in him, and no other love could take its place.

Just as Charles was drifting to sleep, loose-limbed and warm in Erik’s embrace, Erik asked, “If I wanted to…. If I wanted to come home, to you, would you take me back?”

“Always,” Charles said, hoping against all odds that he wasn’t dreaming yet and that Erik really meant what he said—that Erik wasn’t only running high on endorphins and the aurora’s magnetic influence. “Always, love.”


End file.
